Fixations
by alwayscastle13
Summary: Oliver finds out that Vertigo is back out on the streets and he's bound to stop it once and for all this time. He runs into new spins and unexpected people. Olicity moments and Roy and Diggle. This is my first fic so go easy.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The loud music pulsated in his ears and the bass of the music made his heartbeat drum against his ribcage. Oliver watched the bodies in Verdant gyrate against each other from his position outside the VIP room, which was currently empty. He placed his hands against the cold rail as different colors of light flashed across his face. he looked at the many beautiful women who held drinks above their head as they allowed their dance partners, equally drunk, to grope them. Oliver clenched his jaw, thinking back on the days where he used to be one of those men, itching to get his hands on anyone with a pretty smile and great boobs. Oliver scoffed at his younger self. Why did those women throw themselves at him?

Oliver rolled his eyes. He knew that answer. Billionaire playboy with a charming smile might get any girl into bed. Any girl except—-

He saw a flash of blonde hair and a glint of light on her glasses. A broad smile crossed his face and he stepped closer to the rail to keep looking at her. He watched as Felicity gave a small wave to the bartender as she passed by.

He began to descend the steps when something else caught his eye. He stared harder at the bar where two people sat, one man and one woman. Their hands were barely touching, but between their fingers Oliver spied a reflection of plastic. His eyebrows knit together as it was passed from the man to the woman. Oliver skipped down the steps rapidly, closing the distance between he and the couple.

He snatched the girl's wrist and pried the little baggy from her fingers. The man sat frozen for a split second before scrambling to get off the stool.

"Sit down," Oliver hissed in his Arrow voice, as Felicity liked to call it, grabbing the man near the collarbone and forcing him back down on the stool.

"Go," he snapped at the brunette woman sitting in front of him. She slid off her stool quickly and clicked away in her high heels.

He watched her disappear through the collaboration of bodies before turning back to the man. Oliver ground his teeth together before taking a deep breath and asking, "What's your name?"

The guy opened his mouth to say something, but then averted his eyes. He was younger than Oliver it seemed, by maybe a few years. Oliver pressed his lips together before looking over the man's head and yanking him to a stand by his collar. He pushed the guy up against the counter forcefully and got close to his face.

"Name," he spat.

The guy met his eyes before stuttering, "J-Jason Dane."

"I don't tolerate _drugs_ in my club. Now get out. And don't come back," Oliver said, releasing the man and stepping back. Like with the woman, he watched the man's retreating back as he disappeared through the throngs of people as he headed for the exit.

Oliver set his jaw as he looked down at the baggy of green and purple pills. He clenched his fingers around them as he shook his head. Vertigo. How did this stuff keep coming up and why couldn't he stop it?

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he glanced around the dance floor once more before following the path that Felicity had just taken moments before. He headed down the hallway where the music was still loud, but deafened somehow. It was darker back here and before he punched in the code to get down to the foundry, he checked his surroundings. Nobody was around and he quickly entered, making sure the door shut on his way in.

He moved swiftly down the steps as Diggle and Felicity came into view. Diggle was taking inventory of all the medical supplies in the cabinet with a notepad at his side and Felicity was booting up her computers. He noted how incredible she looked, with a black, figure-hugging dress and pink stilettos. Her hair was pulled into her normal ponytail, exposing the neck that he so dreamed of kissing one day.

Oliver crossed the floor in a few strides, coming right up next to the blonde he most wanted to see every day. He crowded her space and immediately said, "I need you to look up a name. Jason Dane."

"Uh, okay. May I ask what for?" Felicity questioned, spinning her chair around and sitting down. She faced the computers and began working her magic, her fingers moving deftly against the black keyboard.

"Drug ring," Oliver answered, placing a hand on the back of her chair, waiting for the results to pop up.

"Drug ring?" Digg chimed in. "What drug?"

Oliver took a big breath before saying, "Vertigo."

Felicity's head jerked in his direction, concern etched on her face. Little wrinkles interrupted the smooth expanse of her forehead. Her bright blue eyes flashed back and forth between both of his. Her pink-stained lips opened and closed again. He figured she was trying to guess if he was going to say anything more.

"Vertigo?" she finally questioned. "But we—-,"

"Put a stop to it weeks ago? Yes, I thought so too." Oliver finished for her, pushing off the desk and running his fingers through his short-cropped hair. He walked the short distance to the metal table behind her and placed his hands on it. It cooled them instantly, assuaging the burning anger that was currently coursing through him. This drug had almost killed his sister and it caused so many more problems to those in the Glades—addiction, gang violence, and death.

"Well," he heard Felicity pipe up behind up. "We'll just stop it again. For good, this time."

He smiled to himself at her optimism. It's exactly what he needs. He spins around and leans against the table, crossing his ankles and arms. Oliver nods and gives her a small smile, which pushes her back to her work. Several windows pop up on the screen as she does so.

"What'd you find?" Oliver asks, waiting on the information.

"Well…not much," Felicity admits, deflated. "Jason Dane must be new to the business. He doesn't even have much on his record, besides a drunken disorderly and an MIP. He's twenty-two-years-old. Mother and father are both dead. He was in and out of foster care for years until he turned eighteen. Besides that, he seems clean. I mean, you know, other than the Vertigo thing. Who do you think he's involved with?"

Oliver smirks. He was hoping the guy's record would lead him to something. He stares at the floor, formulating a plan. He heads to the glass case holding his suit and bow.

"Felicity, do you have a last known address?" Oliver asks, listening to her spout out the address as he heads to the back to change.

An hour later finds him outside Jason Dane's apartment. He's on top of the building across from it and watches the front entrance. Dane finally arrives home after Oliver's patience is spent. He wastes no time, jumping off the roof and climbing up the fire escape to the man's window. He checks to see if it's open and when he finds it locked, he gives way to how annoyed he is and punches a fist through it. The noise is enough to make anyone jump, but Oliver is through the window and into the living room in seconds. He grabs Dane by the neck and throws him against the wall.

Clicking the synthesizer, he growls, "Where did you get the Vertigo?!"

"W-what? I don't know what you're talking ab—-,"

Oliver sends an arrow at Dane. It burrows deep into the wall inches from his left ear. "I'm not going to ask again!"

"Okay! Okay!" Dane holds his hands up. "There's a warehouse in the Glades on Twelfth Avenue and Lark. I meet the guy there every few days and he gives it to me. That's all I know! I swear!"

"Your guy—-what's his name?" Oliver snarls.

"I don't know his real name. Everyone just calls him Amadeus." Dane answers, face screwed up as if he's going to get an arrow in the gut. Before he opens his eyes, Oliver's gone.

"Do you want me to get Digg to meet you there?" Felicity's voice comes through his headset. Knowing that she's on the other end of the line gives him such a sense of security.

"No, I'll just do some recon. It's possible he's not even there tonight." Oliver says, swinging a leg over his motorcycle and roaring it to life. He peels off into the night and scouts the area around the warehouse.

Finally, he decides on a location to park his bike before dipping into the shadows to look around the warehouse. He climbs to the roof and slips in through a window on to the beams up top. Faintly, he can hear classical music playing and voices talking over one another.

Oliver scoffs as he squats on a beam. Amadeus. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The guy plays classical music as he deals drugs. Oliver moves along the beams to get a better look at the place. Amadeus has his operation set up behind a bunch of mechanical equipment. Seeing no one around, Oliver drops behind a forklift. There aren't too many guards, maybe four or five skulking around Amadeus as he makes his deals. Oliver's about to make his move into the middle of the area, reaching back to grab an arrow when he feels something cold press into the back of his head.

Frozen in his position, he hears a gruff voice mutter, "Move an inch and a nine-millimeter goes into your skull."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey everybody! Sorry it's taking me a while to get chapter 2 out. I got the flu and then headed back to college and had to deal with executive things for this organization. Anyway, here it is! Hope you enjoy and thank you everyone for your support!

Chapter 2

Oliver's breath hitched. He sat frozen in his position, calculating what his response would be. He could easily take this guy out; he wouldn't be expecting it. But then there's the problem of the half a dozen guards on the other side of this forklift.

"Put the bow down," the man spat out.

Oliver slowly put the bow on the ground and raised his hands near his head. He could still feel the barrel of the gun pressed to his skull. In a swift move, he reached behind him and grabbed the gun, forcing it away from his head. He spun and came face to face with his attacker, a large man a few inches taller than Oliver with cannons for arms and a neck so thick Oliver couldn't tell where his head started and his torso began.

The man soon began to overpower Oliver and grappled with the gun. He was forcing it back at Oliver's head and as they struggled, the guards and Amadeus soon took notice. The gun went off and Oliver felt the bullet whiz past his left ear. Oliver blinked slowly, the white noise overtaking his head. There was too much going on. Oliver couldn't hear anything and could barely register what was in front of his face. Somehow, he'd kicked his leg out and the large guard now lay flat on his back in front of him, the gun clattering out of his hand and landing a few feet away. Oliver quickly reacted and kicked the gun even further away but not before other guards were upon him.

Oliver fought one off, kicking him in the gut and then banging the guard's head on Oliver's knee. He spun and caught the barrel of an automatic weapon pointed at his face. He jerked it out of the guard's hand and slammed the grip back to his chest. From somewhere unknown, Oliver could see more people closing on him. Knowing he couldn't fight all of them with their guns, Oliver snatched his bow from the dirty concrete floor and aimed it at the ceiling. As he shot the arrow, a rope followed it and Oliver went flying into the air onto one of the beams.

Before he'd gained his balance, he felt the searing pain of one of the bullets graze his stomach. He let out a grunt and winced before finding his balance and hurrying back out through the window he'd come in through. Doubled over, he quickly found his way back to his bike, clutching one side. He brought it to life and sped away from the scene. Oliver could feel the blood starting to coat the inside of his jacket and cursed at the pain and himself. Now that he'd revealed himself at the warehouse, there was no way Amadeus or any of those guys would be back. He'd have to start at square one again and that would just get more Vertigo on the streets.

Oliver parked at the back of Verdant and crept through the shadows until he reached the secret door to the foundry. He punched in the code and pushed his way in. Immediately, he called out, "Felicity!"

She looked up from her position at her computers and instantly shot to her feet. She hurried over to him as fast as her high heels would take her. When she reached him, he slung an arm around her shoulders and leaned into her.

"You know, you're really going to have to lay off those cheeseburgers." Felicity said jokingly. "You're too fat for me to handle."

"Felicity…," Oliver groaned.

"I'm just kidding. But seriously, I'm starting to think that we should deviate from Big Belly Burger because I'm getting fat and you and Digg are probably going to have to start working out more. Not that you don't work out enough already, because you do. I mean, I would know, but—-," Felicity began to ramble.

"Felicity!" Oliver cut her off.

"Sorry, here," Felicity stopped in front of the metal slab of a table and let him collapse on to the stool.

He'd already thrown his hood back and slipped the mask off. He threw it on to the table behind him. Clenching his jaw, he began to unzip the leather jacket. The pain wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He'd had worse, but pain was still pain. He got the zipper to the bottom but stopped to take a deep breath.

"Come on, you're losing blood." Felicity prompted. She slipped her slender fingers inside the jacket up to his shoulders, her fingertips leaving a trail of electricity everywhere they touched. His breath hitched for a completely different reason this time. He couldn't believe that even under these circumstances, even with him bleeding out, she made his heart beat harder and his mind reel. She was the drug he needed.

Oliver focused on the fact that her hands were all over him and not on the pain. One hand gripped his shoulder while the other pushed the leather sleeve off his arm. He looked at her face as she focused on him, the way her lashes cascaded across her cheeks, the way she ever so slightly bit her bottom lip when she concentrated on something important, and the way her eyebrows would draw together when a complication came up unexpectedly. It was the little things. He found her so breathtakingly beautiful and he wanted to tell her, wanted to express the burning feelings that threatened to burst forth from him every time she was around.

But he couldn't.

He needed to keep her safe and being with him was the furthest thing from being safe. He wasn't what she needed. She needed predictable and consistent. She needed—-

"Oliver!" Felicity snapped, roughly gripping his face and making him look her in the eye.

"What?" he responded, not trying to linger on her soft fingers touching his cheek.

"I said I need you to lean back and turn away from me so I can look at the area. And do you think I need to call Diggle? Or Roy? I'm sure either of them would get here real fast. Diggle went home as you were headed to the warehouse. I know you said for Roy to take a few days off because of his insomnia, but he would be here in a flash. You said you were just doing recon! What happened?" Felicity said in a softer tone.

Oliver noticed that her hand was still placed on his cheek, caressing it more than gripping it now. "No," he said. "Don't call Diggle. It's not that deep. You've given me stitches plenty of times, it'll be fine. And I just…ran into some trouble." Oliver ground this last part out, not wanting to admit that he'd let his guard down a little bit. He was too focused on catching the distributer of the drug that almost killed his sister and caused so many problems for Roy's mom that he didn't scrutinize his surroundings as well as he should have.

Oliver twisted so that the part of his torso that was torn open by the bullet grazing his body was right in front of Felicity. He placed his left forearm on the cold, metal table with his right hand gripping the edge of it. He could see that blood had already dripped down past the waistband of his green leather pants. He would have to clean that up later.

Meanwhile, his nerve endings were firing with the simple touches of Felicity Smoak's fingers. Oliver let out a strangled cry of pain as she doused his wound with alcohol.

"Sorry, sorry," she muttered, taking a wet towel to his skin. Her fingers splayed out across his abs as she held him in place and wiped up the blood. He glanced down at the turquoise-painted fingernails and imagined a _very_ different situation in which her hands were on his naked torso. He bit his lip and shook his head ever so slightly. He couldn't think about that right now.

She left his side for a split second to grab the suture kit from the cabinet. He immediately felt the loss of her heat from his side and wanted her back immediately. Normally, he could put these stitches in himself, but when she was there to help, he always let her do it. He loved her gentle touch and she took her time, wanting to get it just right. Oliver figured he was being a little selfish in this aspect, wanting her hands on him and having her in such a close proximity. She didn't seem to have a problem with it though.

After about ten minutes, she finally pulled away, snipping the ends of the thread away from his skin and tossing them in the pan she had used to doctor him up. She squirted some Germ-X into her hands, looking at him.

He stood up straight and looked into her eyes. She crossed her arms as she looked up into his face, a soft smile forming on her lips. She cocked her head to the side, gazing at him imploringly.

"Thank you," he practically whispered.

She nodded, blinking several times, not making eye contact with him.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing, I just…," she trailed off.

"What is it, Felicity?" He urged her, cupping her elbow.

"What's going to happen when one of these injuries is more serious? Like the first time I helped you? Oliver, I don't think I can—-I don't want—-just be careful." Felicity struggled to get the words out.

"Hey, I've said it once before. I'll say it again. You're not going to lose me. I promise." Oliver said.

"How can you promise that?" Felicity asked.

Oliver took a deep breath, looking over her shoulder at the concrete floor. He swallowed, lips parting and searching for different spots behind her. He finally made eye contact with her again, settling on her baby blues and wishing he could wake up to those beautiful eyes every morning.

"Felicity, I—-," he began, but the shrill ringtone of his phone on the table behind him cut him off. He sighed in frustration, stepping away from her and grabbing the phone. He answered the unknown number, snapping irritatingly, "What?"  
>"Hello, lover," came a singsong voice from the other end of the line.<p>

Oliver couldn't believe it. His jaw slacked a little and his eyes snapped to Felicity's, whose face was scrunched together in confusion.

"Carrie?" Oliver gasped in disbelief.


End file.
